Sleepovers
by S.H.Nessa
Summary: <html><head></head>Quinn gets a call in the middle of the night from a very drunk Kurt, and reluctantly goes to his rescue. Features Blaine and Finn. KLAINE. FUINN.</html>


**Post Original Song, pre Born This Way. This is my first time focusing a story on Quinn; I just wanted to experiment a little. I'd also like to mention that this turned out much differently than my original idea, so I might write a different version of this someday. Enjoy!**

Quinn stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fluffy white towel around her body. It was late, way past midnight, and she was beyond tired. She'd spent most of the day with Finn; she had managed to drag him along as she shopped for dresses, then they'd gone to Breadstix for dinner followed by a movie. Finn had come back to her house for a bit of making out before leaving, not wanting to push it with Quinn's mother, who was still warming up to having Finn around.

Quinn yawned as she pulled on her pajamas, her mind still on the evening she'd just had. Finn could be clueless at times, but she honestly did love him. He made her so happy, and being with him-

A buzzing interrupted her thoughts. She looked around with wide eyes, her gaze finally landing on her bed, still rumpled from Finn's oversized body. Finn's phone was nestled in the duvet cover, lit up and buzzing loudly. Quinn bit her lip. Finn had forgotten his phone. Should she drive over and return it, or wait until morning? Surely it could wait? The phone stopped buzzing, and the screen returned to black. Moments later it began to buzz insistently once again. Swiftly Quinn swiped the phone from the bed and pressed the talk button.

"Hello?"

A burst of hysterical laughter greeted her. "FIIIIINNNNNN!" a joyful voice shouted, and Quinn held the phone away from her ear, cringing slightly. "FIIIIINNN HELLLLOOOO!"

Quinn's eyes narrowed as recognition hit. "Kurt?" she asked incredulously. "Kurt, are you— are you _drunk_?"

More laughter answered her. "Finn you sound like a _girl_!" Kurt shouted happily, slurring his words before giggling again.

Quinn sighed impatiently. "This isn't Finn," she said gently, as though speaking to a five year old. "It's Quinn, he left his phone at my house." She paused. "Kurt, what— where are you?"

A loud crash sounded through the line, and Quinn winced. It sounded as though Kurt had dropped the phone. After a moment, a new voice came on the line.

"Hellllo?"

"It's Quinn, who's this?" The girl was losing any patience she'd started with. All she wanted was some damn sleep.

"It's Blaaaaine!" The boy replied happily. "HI QUINN! You have pretty hair…" he trailed off. Quinn couldn't help smiling.

"Thank you," she said. "Blaine, is Kurt ok?"

"Uh-" Blaine giggled before continuing in a whisper. "Don't tell anyone, ok? Don't tell." He paused dramatically. "Kurt— is— _drunk_!" He burst into giggles. Quinn chuckled.

"Ok, I won't tell," she promised. "Are you ok?"

"Oh." Blaine stopped giggling immediately. "No. Noooo I'm nooot, that's why I called. Finn said— Finn said we could call if— if the party got out of _hand_, and it _did_, and there's no one to drive us _home_." He was interrupted by what Quinn assumed was Kurt yell-talking, though she couldn't quite make out the words. After a few minutes, Blaine returned to the phone. "Kurt's— Kurt's like, _really really_ drunk. He fell down. Just now. He fell down. And I can't drive. Can Finn come get us?"

Quinn sighed. "Finn's not here, he just forgot his phone at my place. Maybe you could call him at home?"

"Nooooo," Blaine exclaimed. "Nooo I can't do that because Kurt's daddy will _hate _me if he knows I'm too _drunky_ to drive. He's not supposed to _know_. Kurt will be grounded _forever_."

Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose. Terrific. This was terrific. A small part of her wanted to just say no and go to bed finally. But she loved Kurt. He'd been there for her in the past, and she— not so much. Guilt gnawed at her. Kurt needed a friend. He'd always been a friend, and now he needed one, and dammit she would give him one.

"Ok," she said finally. "Where are you guys? I'll pick you up."

"Wesssss! Wes had a party," Blaine announced.

"Right." Quinn rolled her eyes, a habit she fully blamed on spending too much time with Kurt. "Where does Wes live?"

Blaine slurred out an address. Quinn nodded to herself. She knew the general area, so it shouldn't be too hard to find. She made a promise to be there soon and hung up Finn's phone.

It took her about twenty minutes to find the neighborhood, and another five to find the street. Spotting the house proved not to be a challenge; cars were crammed in the driveway and along the road outside, and music was pumping loudly. Quinn was surprised none of the neighbors had complained or had the party broken up; all the surrounding houses were completely dark. It was a mark of how truly late it was.

When she reached the front door, she knocked, and— as she expected— received no answer. After knocking a second time and still no reply, she opened the door and hesitantly entered.

Quinn made her way from the front entrance further into the house, following the noise toward the living room. Music and laughter and shouting greeted her, and she stood nervously in the doorway, scanning the scene for the familiar pale-faced boy.

Quinn was about to pull out Finn's phone and call Kurt in a desperate attempt to locate him when the boy in question suddenly barreled into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing tightly. He shouted something in her ear, and amazingly she found she couldn't hear it; the music was far too loud.

She pried Kurt from her and held him at arm's length; literally held him, because he was swaying on his feet. He grinned at her sleepily, and made a spastic move that might have been a wave.

"Where's Blaine?" Quinn shouted uselessly. Kurt merely squinted at her. Her question was answered, however, when the shorter boy appeared at Kurt's shoulder a moment later. Quinn gave him a once over. He didn't look too bad; his hair was extremely disheveled, but there were no other physical indicators of his inebriation. Still, Quinn took his word that he was too far gone to drive; it at least showed some responsibility on his part, which she approved of considering Kurt's wellbeing was involved. This whole Kurt-having-a-boyfriend thing was starting to grow on her, Quinn decided then and there.

She jerked her head in the direction of the front door, which luckily Blaine understood. He snaked an arm around Kurt's waist and allowed the taller to lean heavily on him as the trio left the house. Quinn led the way, Finn's cell phone and car keys in hand. She opened the back door to her car and stepped to the side to allow Blaine to deposit Kurt. Kurt, on his part, flopped onto the seat and promptly slid to the floor. Blaine giggled, rolled his eyes, and climbed into the backseat, pulling Kurt up so that he could lay his weight on Blaine. Quinn made sure they were secure before shutting the door with an exasperated sigh and walked quickly around to climb into the driver's seat.

The car ride passed in silence— on Quinn's part, anyway. Kurt would mumble something incoherent now and then, but after the first few times Quinn had learned that these mumbles were mostly for Blaine to interpret and respond to. Kurt didn't even seem to notice that Quinn was there. The blonde took advantage of the opportunity, and spent much of the car ride watching the boys in the rearview mirror. Blaine seemed to have sobered up mostly; and if he hadn't, then he was a damn good drunk caretaker. He held Kurt tightly with one arm, keeping the drunker of the two from sliding around the backseat through the turns. He kept his fingers running through Kurt's hair, and whispered gently in the boy's ear every time he attempted to form words. Kurt, though rather paler than usual, did seem to be calming down, and Quinn suspected that Blaine would have him fast asleep by the time they reached his house.

And sure enough, by the time Quinn pulled into the Hudmel driveway, Kurt's head was lolling limply against Blaine's shoulder. Now, however, an entirely new issue had presented itself: how to get Kurt into the house without waking him or his parents? Quinn met Blaine's eye in the rearview mirror; he seemed to have just realized the problem as well.

"Can you just hold onto him for a minute?" Quinn asked softly so as not to wake the sleeping boy. "I'll go get Finn if you just wait here."

"Sure," Blaine agreed, and Quinn hurriedly unbuckled herself and opened the door. As she climbed out of the car, she caught a glimpse of Blaine pressing his face in Kurt's hair. She fought the urge to coo and quietly opened the door to the Hudmel home, which she knew from experience Finn had forgotten to lock behind him. The house was entirely silent, and Quinn barely breathed as she tiptoed up the stairs to Finn's room. The door was slightly ajar, and she mentally debated whether she should knock to wake him up when she noticed movement inside, and pushed the door open.

Finn was in the dark, throwing everything around in a silent frenzy. Quinn watched him for a moment before clearing her throat gently. Finn spun, eyes wide, then relaxed when he saw the petite blonde. He gestured for her to come into the room, and she did, shutting the door behind her and turning on the light.

"What're you doing here?" Finn asked in a voice that suggested he thought something more than a make-out session was headed his way.

Quinn held out her hand; in it was Finn's cell phone. His eyes widened and he snatched it gratefully. "Thought I'd lost it," he said sheepishly, looking around at the mess he'd created. "Thanks." His face changed to a look of confusion. "You didn't have to drive all this way. You coulda just given it back in the morning." A hopeful note made its way into his words, and Quinn knew that he was once again thinking of doing something more than making out.

"Kurt called," Quinn told him, and his eyes widened.

"Is he ok?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You know Kurt was at a party tonight?" Finn nodded. "He and Blaine needed a ride. Kurt was—" she snorted, "—_really_ drunk, and Blaine wasn't too bad, but he said he wasn't safe to drive, so…" she trailed off with a shrug. Finn nodded and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Thanks," he said. "Guess I'll go get them," he muttered, and he moved past her to grab the car keys he'd left on his desk when Quinn grabbed his arm.

"I picked them up," she said, and he turned to look at her incredulously.

"You— you did?" Quinn nodded. "Where— Are they in Kurt's room?"

"They're still in the car," Quinn replied. "Kurt fell asleep and I didn't know how to get them into the house without waking everyone up, so—" Finn wrenched open the door and was down the stairs in a— surprisingly silent— flash. Quinn followed, slowly so as not to make noise. She wasn't as practiced as Finn in the art of sneaking around the house.

By the time she made it outside, Finn had already gotten the backdoor open and was crouched beside her car. He seemed to be gesturing to Blaine, and as Quinn approached she saw Finn hold out his arms so that Blaine could maneuver Kurt into them. Kurt mumbled sleepily as he was transferred from Blaine's arms to Finn's, but he didn't open his eyes. When Finn straightened, his brother securely in his arms, Kurt nuzzled his face in Finn's chest.

"You got him?" Quinn whispered, and Finn nodded as Blaine stepped out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind him. Finn started toward the house, and Quinn wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist as they followed. He leaned into her touch appreciatively.

They followed Finn as he carried Kurt up the stairs. Kurt seemed to be half awake, because they could see Finn speaking to him softly and could hear murmured replies. He was gentle as he lowered Kurt into the bed, and the inebriated boy flopped limply onto his side upon being deposited and mumbled into his pillow. Blaine pushed past Quinn and Finn to perch himself on the side of the bed, reaching out to stroke Kurt's hair tenderly.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured, turning his head from the pillow. His eyes were screwed shut and he was far paler than normal. "Gonna- gon' be sssick-"

Finn swiftly grabbed a trashcan and shoved it in front of Kurt's face just as the boy leaned over Blaine's legs and began to hurl. Blaine rubbed soothing circles into his back and Finn stroked his hair and Quinn watched awkwardly from the doorway. After several uncomfortable minutes of retching, Kurt took a deep breath and dropped his head on Blaine's lap, exhausted.

Quinn watched, feeling entirely out of place, as both Blaine and Finn spoke in low, soothing tones to Kurt, urging him onto his back. Blaine reached back to pull Kurt's shoes off, and Finn had set the trashcan beside the bed and continued to brush Kurt's hair back gently. Kurt seemed to be drifting off to sleep; Finn whispered to Blaine for a moment before nodding and standing up. He turned to Quinn and took her hand, leading her from the room and shutting the door behind him.

He led her to his own bedroom, closing the door before speaking.

"Thank you." He turned to look her straight in the eye as he said this.

"It wasn't a big deal," Quinn replied dismissively, but Finn shook his head.

"No, really," he insisted, sitting on the edge of his bed and urging her to do the same. "It is. It— it means a lot that you would— would be willing to take care of Kurt. You didn't have to, but you did, and—" He took her hand. "Thanks."

She squeezed back and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Quinn thought about Kurt; thought about how she hated not seeing him everyday, and wondered whether he missed McKinley. She thought about how if anyone else in the Glee club had gotten that call tonight, they would have done exactly the same thing, because Kurt was still one of them and they looked out for each other, always. She thought about Blaine, about how tender and caring he had been with Kurt tonight. But mostly she thought about Finn, about how much he had changed, about how protective he'd become of Kurt, about how it had seemed second nature to him to take care of his brother like that.

"It's late," Finn said finally. "Do you want to stay the night?"

Quinn lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. "Won't your parents mind?"

"Burt leaves for work really early, so he won't even know. And I'll wake you before my mom gets up." He kissed her forehead. "It won't be a problem."

Quinn nodded gratefully. She was far too tired to do any more driving tonight.

"Does Blaine ever spend the night?" Quinn asked curiously as they climbed under the covers. Finn nodded. "And— I mean, your parents _know_ they're a couple, right?"

"Yeah," Finn sighed. "It's so unfair. I mean, I get it. Like, as long as they're safe and everything— It's not like either of them can get pregnant. Burt wasn't big on the idea but Mom talked him into it, and he had a long talk with Blaine first and everything. About like his intentions and something about not pushing Kurt and stuff." He trailed off then shrugged. "I get it. Kurt's responsible and Blaine's really good to him so there's no reason why they can't spend the night together. I'm just—" he looked over at Quinn. "—really jealous," he finished with a crooked grin. He rolled over onto his side to face her.

"Jealous?" Quinn repeated with a smile, turning onto her side as well.

"Kurt gets to spend nights with the guy he loves," Finn said softly. "I wish we could have that much time together. I wish I could hold you all night and sleep next to you and listen to you breathe. I wish—" Quinn cut him off with a kiss.

"We have tonight," she replied with a smile. "And eventually there will be other nights." She kissed him again. "But for now, let's just enjoy this."


End file.
